Idée Fixe
by Helvetica Black
Summary: Idée fixe. It is the object that dominates your thoughts, and the thought that plagues your mind. Obsession, some people call it. Others even call it madness. He calls it "Isabella Marie Swan."


Everything always starts with names. Before a child is taught letters, he is taught words. And the first words he is taught, are names.

_Apple. Banana. Cat. Dog._

_Ear. Eye. Nose. Mouth. Cheek._

_Sun. Sky. Moon. Star._

_Tree. Flower. Leaf. Grass._

_Mama. Papa. _

To truly understand something, one must name it first. It is the reason men take great care in naming their beasts in the olden times. They named fierce animals in an attempt to understand nature, to organize it — not that the names ever mattered when those beasts devoured them.

It goes without saying, of course, that when some humans discovered the existence of blood-drinking creatures, they gave the creatures names as well, in an attempt to feel a sense of control over them.

_Vampires. Monsters. Cold ones. Nosferatu._

Because it is believed, even to this day, that if a terrible thing can be named, it is not so terrible at all.

He would often smile when remembering that saying, because though he understands the notion to some extent, he also finds it somewhat ridiculous.

Yes, he and his kind are "vampires," but that is not all of what they are.

A "vampire" is only a part of what he is. What beast lurks beneath his skin, and what malevolent creature hides in his venom, is something that can never be named. Not by humans.

Yes, it is ridiculous, this human urge to name everything, but Alec cannot laugh at it. The most he can do is smile, for he too has a penchant for names.

Names, names, it is always names with him. Names have never failed him, and so names are all that matter to him. Aro is _Master_, and so are Caius and Marcus. Jane is _Sister_. Demetri is simply _Tracker_ to him. Sulpicia and Athenodora are always just referred to as _Wives_, so Wives he calls them. Felix is _Felix_, for he could bear no other name. Which was the same case for _Heidi, Renata_ and _Chelsea_. The other vampires whose names he doesn't bother to remember, he just calls _Guard_.

There are too many vampires in the world for him to commit all their names to memory. No matter how easy it would be to remember all their names — he is a vampire, after all, and such a thing is no amazing feat — it is in neither his job nor his interest what name which vampire calls himself or herself. And so he settles with grouping the multitude of vampires together. After all, though remembering all their names is entirely unnecessary, it doesn't mean they shouldn't be identified. If he is to keep track of the crimes committed and the vampires he must terminate, he should at least know which vampire committed which crime. There is no excuse for ignorance.

That said, he still has no use for individual names. He only needs to remember their faces, and to know who they surround themselves with, if they do surround themselves with anyone at all. Categorization is key.

And so group them, he does.

Those who roam the world singly or in pairs, he calls "Nomads," and the large groups of vampires are labeled "Covens." Others would think his naming apt: _Nomads_ indeed roam, and vampires in _Covens_ indeed stick together. None would have guessed the true reason he uses such words.

In his time, Nomadic tribes were a rowdy, disgusting lot, and so he chooses the word "nomads" to depict the vampire commoners he thinks rowdy and disgusting. And any man who knows his English and history would know that "coven," though also used to depict a congregation of witches, was used as a derogatory term in the middle ages, and was often said with the tone one usually applies with expletives.

Nobody knows that fact more intimately than he and his sister.

So, _Nomads_ and _Covens_. He often chuckles at the names, and muses at how fitting they are for the lowly commoners.

Vampires have their labels and names, all of which having no more than thirteen letters and going no longer than two words. He knows this, for he counted. He measured. He knows just how much of his memory is supposed to be used for names.

And yet, strangely, one name in his mind is longer than the rest.

_Isabella Marie Swan._

Three words, with seventeen letters in all. Isabella, the first name, implies beauty. Marie implies femininity.

And Swan...

He closes his eyes and recalls her image.

Swan is for the way her skin reflected the light like a swan's down. Swan is for her grace. Swan is for the way she so obviously soars above everyone else, above even him.

Her name, he thinks to himself, is apt as well. He would not name her any other way.


End file.
